


Fire of my Loins

by thatluckyrabbit



Category: Casper (1995)
Genre: Flirting, Implied Masturbation, Lolita-inspired, M/M, Male Slash, Mild Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 15:04:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1020103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatluckyrabbit/pseuds/thatluckyrabbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In his mind James imagined himself as Humbert, with this nearly century's-old, wise-cracking ghost as his little Lolita.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire of my Loins

**Author's Note:**

> That ending wrote itself. XD
> 
> Yes. I'm obsessed with Lolita and the idea of Stretch acting like Lolita, licking stuff suggestively at James. 
> 
> Blame Lana Del Rey's two songs: "Lolita" and "Off to the Races" as the catalyst for this new found obsession of mine, because I just watched the 1997 movie last night, and now I'm inspired to make Stretch all flirty and licking things and doing dirty dirty things with that tongue of his... lick lick lick *fangirl sigh*
> 
> Yeah, I have a problem. XD
> 
> Btw, when Stretch says he saw the movie, he means the 1962 Stanley Kubrick version, not the 1997 version, since this story takes place a year after the events of Casper (meaning it was 1995); meaning it's 1996 in this little fic thing. Just lettin' ya know.

 

"What are ya up to, Doc?"  
  
James peered up from the book he'd been reading, spotting Stretch hovering in front of the library door. His brothers were no where in sight, and in his hand was a tootsie pop.  
  
"Just reading some books from your brother's collection," James responded quickly, holding up the book to see. "I-I hope you don't mind. I was just curious."  
  
Stretch slowly brought the lollipop to his lips. "Which one are ya readin'?"  
  
"Oh just something about..." James flipped the cover over. "...inventions and building."  
  
Stretch floated over, lollipop in mouth. "Didn't take ya for the inventin' type..." he noted, a tone of amusement present as he spoke.  
  
"I'm not." James shrugged, placing the book back down on the desk. He avoided eye contact with the violet ghost. "But it's an interesting read." He adjusted his glasses and glanced up, only to find Stretch already taking a seat on the desk.  
  
Stretch leaned forward a bit, peering closely at the bewildered psychiatrist. "Do you always spend Friday nights in this dusty old library? Don't ya got anythin' better to do?"  
  
James swallowed hard a bit, fidgeting nervously under those vibrant violet eyes peering into his own. He remembered those times in the first months following the initial move into Whipstaff, when Stretch relentlessly teased and mocked him along with his brothers. Progressively though, almost a year later... there was a change in Stretch's demeanor... at least whenever they were around each other. The phantom went from down right malicious and cruel to flirtatious and down right sexual with just the intent in those deep violet eyes.  
  
Quite frankly, James wasn't sure which he preferred more. And despite his nerves, nothing ever stopped him from protesting Stretch's advances.  
  
"I-I like to read," was all James could squeak out in reply, leaning back in his chair as Stretch leaned closer.  
  
Stretch sucked noisily on the lollipop in his mouth, as if suggesting something with the movements of his tongue and lips. He let out a little hum at the fruity taste on his tongue before releasing the lollipop from his mouth with an audible 'pop', a noticeable strand of saliva appearing. But Stretch didn't seem to care, licking the stray saliva away before smacking his lips. James watched him, as if in a trance.  
  
"Huh..." Stretch placed the lollipop down on the desk. James didn't seem to mind or care. The ghost started leaning closer, as if actually crawling forward on the desk. Which—when one his hand slipped and landed on James' thigh accidentally, the psychiatrist gasping in surprise at the contact—appeared to be the case, as if he'd done it purposely.  
  
James froze at the contact of Stretch's hand pressing against his inner thigh, his breath caught in his throat. If there was anything he was about to say, he certainly didn't remember it. He was stunned silent.  
  
"You've been here for a year, Doc..." Stretch noted in mild amusement, licking the fruity flavor from his lips as he pressed his nose against James'. "...you're definitely the strangest fleshie I've ever met."  
  
James felt his pulse take off soaring when Stretch began running his hand up and down his inner thigh. A thought, a similarity, came to mind just then. "T-This is a lot like..." he swallowed hard, unable to finish his sentence.  
  
Stretch tilted his head, curious. "A lot like what, Doc?"  
  
"L-Like that book I read once," James explained shakily. Stretch's hand felt cool; even against the fabric of his pants did James feel the coldness of the ghost's hand leak onto the flesh of his thigh. "...back in college."  
  
Stretch watched him, waiting for the psychiatrist to continue. In the mean time he inched his hand upward, still pressing his hand down hard against James' thigh.  
  
As the coldness slowly began to reach the growing bulge between his legs, James shut his eyes, tilting his head back slightly. He wasn't even naked, he was still completely clothed—but Stretch's hand was cold enough to send sensual shivers up his spine as that coldness reached toward his growing erection. He hadn't even realized he was hard until now. In his mind James imagined himself as Humbert, with this nearly century's-old, wise-cracking ghost as his little Lolita. "... _light of my life, fire of my loins_ ," the human murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "... _my sin, my soul._.."  
  
" _Lolita_ ," Stretch said softly, finishing the line.  
  
James' eyes snapped open in surprise. He didn't think Stretch had read the novel. "You've read _Lolita_?" he asked.  
  
Stretch smiled, pausing from his ministrations. "...nope," he answered simply. "But I saw the movie."  
  
With that said, he removed his hand from James' thigh. Rather than protest, the psychiatrist watched in awe as the ghost leaned back away from him. Stretch popped the lollipop back into his mouth, shooting one last knowing glance at James before floating up and out of the room.  
  
James took a deep breath, his own hands already reaching for his own belt buckle, as if working on their own accord.  
  
He knew he'd have to finish the job himself.  
  
  



End file.
